


come a little closer

by finnhoe



Series: just you and me, babe [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Pining, a lot of failed flirting, sexual innuendo, theyre both giant dorks really, zouis brotp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:19:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2003589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finnhoe/pseuds/finnhoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>au where zayn and louis go out to dinner, louis is really good at seducing he swears, and harry is the waiter who enjoys all of it</p>
            </blockquote>





	come a little closer

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy .xx

“Zayn, this place is disgustingly posh,” Louis whispers to his best friend after the hostess with the stupid accent sat them down at their table, complete with flowers in a vase and cloth napkins.

See, Zayn thinks Louis is going through a mid-life crisis at the ripe age of 23. Because apparently if you’re single and the only action you get is your cat licking your face, you must be depressed or something.

Zayn rolls his eyes, used to Louis’ antics. “Shut up, Liam gave up these reservations for you instead because even he thinks you’re depressed,” Zayn remarks exasperatedly, pointing a half-hearted accusing finger at the boy across from him.

See, that’s another thing. Zayn thinks that all 23 year olds should have a fucking lumberjack puppy-eyed boyfriend who has the next three thousand years of his life planned out.

Now it’s Louis’ turn to roll his eyes. “Oh stuff it, you wanker,” Louis casually dismisses the conversation.

“Oops!!” a waiter bumps into their table, having tripped over air??

The waiter brushes himself off, face red, and collects his bearings before saying, “Hello, ‘m name’s Harry and I’ll be your waiter tonight.”

And oh. _Oh._

Harry is a fucking stunning human with these chestnut-brown curls messily styled in a quiff and are those goddamn dimples? He has the greatest jawline to exist (even better than Liam’s) and his rosy cheekbones are just barely prominent that they look soft and inviting. He’s also got these warm green eyes that Louis could just stare at for years and these plump red lips that he wants to bite and lick. Louis feels unworthy of his presence. (You’d think he’d get used to feeling unworthy after being best mates with Zayn for all these years.)

Apparently he’s staring too long, because he receives a particularly hard kick in the shins from Zayn underneath the table. Zayn can fuck off, really.

“Hi,” Louis says dreamily, like he’s in a fairytale and shit. And fucking shit that was very feminine; like more feminine than usual.

Wow, Louis’ pretty sure they’re having eye sex right now. Harry’s smirking and Louis is staring open-mouthed like he can just feel Harry’s dick in his mouth.

However, Zayn clears his throat and the moment is broken, both of their attention held back to food. Yes, food.

“Have you decided on drinks?” Harry asks, and sweet baby jesus his voice is so deep and rocky, and Louis will be damned if anyone has heard anything sexier. Louis wants to hear him moan.

“I’ll just have a beer, thanks mate,” Zayn finally interjects, closing his menu.

And right. Time to turn on the charm.

“Could I get a martini please?” Louis starts, then makes eye contact with the poor waiter, “Extra dirty.”

Harry’s smirk grows and he nods, walking away. Zayn begins snickering and puts his head in his hands. Sometimes Zayn thinks Louis is the dumbest person he’s met.

“Oh stop your laughing, Mr. IPutMyCatInATreeMultipleTimesSoLiamHotFirefighterWouldComeGetIt,” Louis teases, smirking over his glass of water.

“Hey!! You agreed to not bring that up!” Zayn pouts, and he still looks hot, goddamnit. Louis needs uglier friends.

Louis just shrugs and opens his menu, browsing for something to eat. He can’t get a burger because then it will look like he’s a fatass. But he can’t get a salad because it’ll look like he’s a shallow dickhead. Maybe the hot dog. No, then it’ll look like he’s begging for a dick in his mouth. (He is.)

“Zaynie, what do I get????” Louis slumps, resting his chin in his hand, trying to look as miserable as possible.

“I don’t know, what sounds good?” Zayn (not very helpfully) asks over the table.

Louis sighs dramatically and puts his head on the table, and he can practically hear Zayn’s eye roll.

Wait for it.

“Get the parmesan chicken, it will say that you’re sophisticated and have a good diet, but you don’t eat too much,” Zayn remarks without looking up from his menu. And ah yes, this is why they’re best friends.

“Zayn, have I told you how much I love you?” Louis closes his menu and finally is able to sit back.

The boy in question looks up, golden eyes quirked in a small smile, “You’re gross.”

“You love me,” Louis easily counters, blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

Zayn just shakes his head and closes the menu, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

It’s then that Harry comes back and sets their drinks down, Zayn’s first then Louis’. And, mother of god, look at those hands. Louis would do some obscene things to get those fingers inside him.

“Did you, uh, decide on food?” Harry asks (holy shit Louis can’t get over how his voice is so deep) while he pulls out a notepad and pen.

“Yeah, can I get the fettuccine alfredo, please?” Zayn asks politely, pretending to not notice Louis gaping at Harry’s jawline.

Harry nods and jots it down on his notepad, turning his attention to Louis. And wow, Harry looks like such a daddy with the black button up rolled halfway up his forearm and the sleek material stretched across his broad chest.

“I’ll have the chicken dadd- oh fuck,” Louis cuts himself off, and jesus did that really just happen??

Zayn is looking at him with wide eyes, trying desperately hard not to laugh and Harry looks like he’s torn between wanting to laugh or cry.

“Chicken parmesan, please,” Louis quickly finishes, turning his eye contact to the table, handing his menu to Harry and he can feel the heat all over his face.

It’s then Zayn finally lets go, and he’s laughing hard and Louis dramatically places his head on the table again, hands going up to flip Zayn off.

“I fucking hate you,” Louis grumbles, his mouth squished against the white cloth of the table. And he does, he really hates Zayn. Zayn should be patting his back and consoling him, not laughing almost to the point of tears.

“Aw come on babes, you almost called him daddy, what the fuck was that?” Zayn barely gets out, still shaking with laughter.

And, nope. Louis has more dignity than this.

Louis picks up his head and looks Zayn dead in the eye. “You and I both know what you call Liam in the bedroom so if you don’t shut the fuck up in two seconds I will make sure every second of your sex life is broadcasted on every social media you have. Are we clear?” Louis glares, eyes narrowed.

Zayn stops laughing, not knowing if Louis would actually do it or not.

“You wouldn’t,” Zayn squints back, leaning over his elbows on the table.

“You wanna find out?” Louis easily smirks, leaning back in his chair. And he sees Zayn giving up, sitting back as well as he puts his hands up in surrender.

“Truce, mate, truce,” Zayn shrugs, picking up his beer as he takes a sip of it, watching Louis warily like he’ll shove the knife down his throat if he laughs again.

Louis nods, feeling very satisfied as he takes a sip from his martini.

“But seriously, if you don’t ask for the bloke’s number, I’ll ask for it myself,” Zayn quips.

“Oh don’t you worry, my friend. Don’t you worry,” Louis smiles, already having a plan worked out.

And then thirty minutes later, Zayn and Louis are done eating, bellies nice and full. But Louis’ plan has definitely not been forgotten.

The two best friends are idly chatting, before Harry comes over again, collecting their dishes as he asks, “Anything else I can get you?”

Louis sends a small crooked grin over to Zayn before turning to Harry, looking up through his eyelashes. “Just the check please,” a pause, “and your number.”

Louis sees Harry’s eyes get bigger before blurting out, “I have a boyfriend.”

And there’s dead silence at the table. Zayn looks genuinely shocked and is looking desperately at Louis, whose heart just shattered into a million pieces.

“I’m kidding, oh my god. You should’ve seen your faces,” Harry is laughing now, dimples on full display as he watches Louis’ face change from confusion to happiness to amusement.

“You fucking wanker!” Louis accuses Harry, and all three of them are laughing now.

And thank god, honestly, Louis was about to give up all hope of dating if Harry really did have a boyfriend. Fuck.

“But yeah, I’ll be right back with both of those, babe,” Harry fucking winks before walking away, his slim, toned legs in those tight black jeans on display.

Louis looks after him in disbelief, then scoffs, turning his attention to Zayn, who is still giggling.

“That was the best thing to ever happen. Ever. This’ll be quite a story to tell your guys’ kids,” Zayn smiles, and now Louis is smiling too.

“Yeah, guess so,” too elated to acknowledge the mention of their hypothetical kids.

It’s then that Harry arrives at their table with the check, giving it to Louis, and he swears he felt a spark when their fingers just brushed.

Louis looks down at the message scrawled in neat handwriting.

‘My shift ends in twenty, meet you outside? xx’ Complete with a smiley face and his number scrawled there.

Louis laughs to himself and pulls out his phone, putting the number under “harry the fit waiter” and locks it, looking back up to Zayn.

“Zaynie, I’m afraid you’ll have to go home alone tonight.”

**Author's Note:**

> i will be writing a part two soon!! feedback is much appreciated and thanks for reading :)  
> twitter: fireylarry  
> tumblr: caitykt


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